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May 25, 2004

Brandon Mayfield, I apologize

I, yet again, find myself stranded, wishing there was a channel through which to learn about the world that I could trust. In my recent travels I've realized that one method, though anything but easy, is through empirical study. Here is my most recent shame over believing our media.

Around May 8th the story broke that a guy from Portland had been linked to the Madrid bombings through a fingerprint. I read this article about it. Some of my favorite parts are the headline "It was just a fingerprint on a bag in Madrid. But the latest clue in the probe of Spain's 9/11 led the Feds to a lawyer in Portland. Tracing terror's tricky arc", and the 4th paragraph.

Federal officials told NEWSWEEK that they doubt Mayfield has been innocently swept up in a case of international intrigue. Mayfield married an Egyptian woman and converted to Islam 16 years ago. The couple was active in a local Oregon mosque whose members had openly protested government antiterror policies. But it was another thing that leapt out at investigators: in 2002 Mayfield had volunteered to provide legal help for Jeffrey Battle, one of the ringleaders of the Portland Seven—a group of local jihadists who had flown to Asia after 9/11 in an unsuccessful effort to fight with the Taliban. Although prosecutors never proved that the group had committed terrorist acts, last year Battle and an associate pleaded guilty to "conspiracy to levy war against the United States." Battle petitioned to let family members keep custody of his 6-year-old son. Mayfield represented him in the dispute. (He lost.) "If that print had matched with some little old lady in Peoria, that would be one thing," says a U.S. official. "But what are the odds it would be somebody with this background?"

Today, it was found that the FBI was wrong and that this small town lawyer in Portland had his entire life ass-fucked by our government with the unholy contemporary use of the material witness statute, because of some mistake on the part of the FBI, and because he's Muslim.

Mr. Mayfield, I pay the salaries of the men who just ruined your life. I apologize, though that can't possibly help you in your situation. I will continue to try to find a way to stop my complicity in acts similar to what happened to you.

Posted by gene_wood at 12:29 AM | Comments (1)

May 14, 2004

Confrontation

So Rick and I went to this club tonight, Atomic Cafe. It's really happening, packed with people, live band, the works. So we get there, listen to the band for a bit, head to the bar get some drinks, and then begin to move across the back of the crowd to get a better view. As were walking across, weaving through a 6 inch wide path between people, a guy is kinda walking on my heels as we go. It's no big deal since it's super crowded, until about half way across the room when I feel his hand in my pocket and on my wallet. I stop walking grab his hand and turn around. The man looks like a 20 something german or turkish guy, about 5' something. I'm towering above him looking down at him. He begins on a tirade in German, god knows what about "What, what, why'd you grab my hand, it wasn't in your pocket." Who knows. I just stare at him, saying nothing. I continue walking and then when I get to where I want to stand to watch the show, I stop again and stair at him. He keeps talking, getting angrier and angrier. Eventually he walks away. I watch the show, every once and a while keeping an eye on where he is. About 45 minutes later after the band finishes, two girls who are standing in front of us begin looking around on the ground and talking to each other, seeming worried. He had been standing behind them earlier. They walk away looking distraught. I go up to them and say "What did you lose?" The girl explains that someone took her handy (cell phone) out of her purse. I tell her I know who did it and to stay there. I begin walking around the club and shortly see the guy. He's heading towards the exit, I guess he got everything he needed for the night. I stop him at the exit and tell him to give the girl back her phone and there won't be any trouble. The guy goes ballistic. Before I even begin to speak he's offering to show me his bag and its contents. He continues to deny he has anything so I say "Come on" and motion towards where I left the girl. He strides furiously in front of me away from the exit and to the other side of the club. I take him to the girl and indicate to her that this is the guy. He starts going crazy. He offers to let me search his bag and I tell him I don't want to, just give her back her phone. He takes her into the girls bathroom, ostensibly to show her that he doesn't have the phone. He comes back out a minute later and is screaming "What is your name!?!" and "I fucking kill you!" among other things. I'm standing between him and the girl and I ask Rick if there is some kind of bouncer. He indicates that the guy I had been talking to earlier near where I was, worked there. The guy has already seen that a scene is about to occur. The guys a little skater kid with a sky cap. He kinda grapples the guy and talks to him, I assume saying get the fuck out. The guy is ballistic, "I fucking kill you!" "I be waiting outside. You come outside" He swings at me and clips me with an open hand. I grab his wrists and hold him until the guy pushes him towards the exit. I go back and apologize to the girl and her friend that I couldn't get their phone back. Rick and I stayed for another hour or so listening to music, watching people dance and I got bored and headed home. So if you're in a club in Germany and you see a guy, the only guy in the whole room who's carrying a carpet bag, hold on to your wallet and keep your purse in front of you, and if you catch the guy and he freaks out, hit the little man in the face before he hits you.

Posted by gene_wood at 05:30 PM | Comments (4)

May 11, 2004

Rude awakening

I'm in Munich staying at Rick's flat. I came back early by myself last night because I was feeling sick. I went to bed about 11pm. Rick was out at a concert and came home, plastered around 4 or 5am. I was asleep as he came in. In his absolute drunkenness he forgot both that I was staying with him, and that he had given me his bed. This combined with the method that he gets into bed, which consists of a drunken run followed by a jump into the air resulted in me waking at 5 in the morning to Rick landing on me. I can't really think of a time that I've been more startled or disoriented. He jumped off, about as scared as I was, wondering who or what was in his bed, began apologizing profusely and then stumbled into the living room to collapse on the couch.

Posted by gene_wood at 02:04 PM | Comments (4)